


He's Not Him

by Sylph_of_Breath



Series: Take my hand, wreck my plans [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Adoption, Childhood Trauma, Daddy Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Strider Angst, brief pregnancy mention, davekat - Freeform, everybody is happily married and friends but they still have TRAUMA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 18:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29230218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylph_of_Breath/pseuds/Sylph_of_Breath
Summary: Dave struggles with painful memories after receiving some unexpected news from Dirk.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Jake English/Dirk Strider
Series: Take my hand, wreck my plans [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141649
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one is sort of a companion piece to ["Everything is Good,"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29173158/chapters/71622270) because I am very wrapped up in this particularly au at the moment!

timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]

TT: Hey.  
TG: sup  
TT: Are you doing anything right now?  
TG: were just watching a movie  
TG: but its nothing we havent seen a million times so i dont really need to pay attention or anything  
TG: why whats up  
TT: I was going to ask if I could call you, but it can wait until your movie’s over.  
TG: nah bro its cool i can go in the other room  
TG: is everything ok though  
TT: Yeah, we’re fine. Just let me know when I can call.  
TG k hold on a sec

Dave looks up from his phone at Karkat.

“Hey, something’s up with Dirk so I’m gonna go in the bedroom and talk to him. Keep watching without me, I’ll be back.”

He kisses Karkat’s cheek and carefully untangles their legs from each other before getting up from the couch.

“IS HE OK? IS JAKE OK?”

“He said they’re good but he’s being cryptic and wouldn’t tell me what’s up. But you know how he likes to get all dramatic though and tries to play it off as totally normal and chill, so who fucking knows. There’s a very good chance he just built a new robot that he’s super hyped about.”

“OK, WELL TELL HIM I SAID HI I GUESS. AND SEND MY CONGRATULATIONS OR CONDOLENCES OR GOOD LUCK OR WHATEVER. UNLESS IT IS JUST A NEW ROBOT, IN WHICH CASE DON’T SAY ANYTHING EXCEPT HI BECAUSE I DO NOT FUCKING CARE.”

“Will do.”

Dave makes his way into their bedroom, and as soon as he closes the door behind him, picks up his phone again.

TG: k go ahead

His phone rings immediately.

The credits start to roll, breaking Karkat out of his usual movie trance, and he realizes that it’s been some time since Dave went to talk to Dirk. Not that it’s uncommon for the two of them to get going on something or other and never manage to be able to shut up, but since he’d gotten the impression that this wasn’t just a regular Strider gab session, but the passing on of actual important information, he’d probably better pop in and check, at the very least to satisfy his own curiosity. So he makes his way to the bedroom door and lightly knocks. He doesn’t hear a response, but he also doesn’t hear Dave still talking on the other side, so he decides to open the door and stick his head in.

“DAVE?”

Dave is sitting on his side of the bed, the far side, facing the wall. His hands are on the bed on either side of him, anchoring him in place, and underneath one of them is his phone. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t make a sound. Karkat continues in.

“HEY, BABE, ARE YOU OK? WHAT’S WRONG? TALK TO ME.”

He climbs onto the bed from his own side and scoots over to Dave on his knees, laying his hands on Dave’s shoulders. Dave still doesn’t give any response to the touch.

“DAVE, PLEASE TALK TO ME! WHATEVER IT IS, I’M HERE, OK?”

He wraps his arms around Dave from behind and lays his head on his shoulder. It seems to have done something, because Dave lifts one hand from the bed and hooks it around Karkat’s arm. He makes a small sound, like he’s trying to speak but can’t quite form words yet.

“IT’S OK. I’M HERE. IT’S OK.”

Dave’s hand squeezes down on Karkat’s arm. Karkat can feel him take a deep breath into his back. He kisses his shoulder.

“They’re…”

The word comes out barely above a whisper. Karkat just squeezes a little bit tighter and waits patiently for the rest.

“They’re having a baby.”

Based on Dave’s state, Karkat had been preparing himself for news of someone’s death, or possibly divorce, or something else dire, so he finds himself caught off guard and confused at the news.

“WHO?”

“Dirk and Jake. They’re gonna adopt a baby. Soon. They're already on a list.”

Well, obviously that’s who, Karkat now realizes. But he’s still feeling very lost at how to proceed with this information. He’s mostly gotten the hang of human familial structures by now, at least in theory, so he’s perfectly aware how common it is for human marriages to be followed up by the acquisition of a child for the couple to raise together. He’s even vaguely aware of the most common forms of human child acquisition, and even somewhat aware of how the strange variations in human anatomy make certain methods possible for certain couples and impossible for others. He knows June and Roxy _made_ theirs- Roxy got very fat and kind of cranky for a while, and then somehow that Karkat is vaguely aware of but tries not to think about, there was Harry Anderson. Rose and Kanaya got Vriska from the brooding caverns- obviously making one of their own was never on the table no matter what Rose’s anatomy may be capable of. And of course, he knows how Dave came into the world- not that that’s a regular part of human culture, but he supposes that if any of the Creators and their partners ever wanted to employ that option, they have the capability. As for Dirk and Jake, he’s not really sure, and frankly never bothered to ask because it’s none of his goddamn business. Not to mention that he just doesn’t really want to know about the reproductive organs of his brothers/fathers-in-law or what they may or may not be doing with them. But even if multiple methods are technically available, he doesn’t know of any reason why adoption shouldn’t be the choice they go with.

Regardless, Karkat’s thoughts eventually meander back to the actual issue at hand, which he’s fairly certain has nothing to do with the baby acquisition method at all, but the baby acquisition itself, and the fact that, for some reason, the news that by all intents and purposes he’s come to believe is generally celebrated, is affecting Dave so poorly. Or maybe he’s just in shock?

“UH…”

His desperation to say something outruns his ability to decide just what it is he wants to say, resulting in the useless syllable coming out of his mouth. But he quickly finds that somehow, the syllable was far worse than useless, because Dave startles him with a sudden, violent sob.

“OH GOD, FUCK, I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY, SHHHHH, IT’S OK, I’M SO SORRY!”

Dave shoves his hands up under his shades and cries heavily. It takes all of Karkat’s strength to not just do the same. He's only seen Dave like this a few times before, but at least each of those times he's understood the cause, even if he still felt helpless to fix it. Without even meaning to, he just hugs him even tighter.

"DAVE, HONEY, I'M SO SORRY! WHAT DO YOU NEED? WHAT CAN I DO?"

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, God, this is so fucking stupid! I don’t know what’s wrong with me! I’m so sorry, fuck…”

“NO! NO! IT’S NOT STUPID! PLEASE, JUST TALK TO ME! I PROMISE, WHATEVER IT IS, IT’S NOT STUPID!”

Dave tries to speak again, but finds that he can only cry. Karkat just holds him. He rubs his back, strokes his hair, grabs the tissue box from his nightstand and places it beside him, and then comes back and just holds him some more and waits. Over several minutes, Dave gradually quiets himself, and his breathing begins to normalize. He takes his hands off his face. He grabs a tissue and wipes his eyes and blows his nose. Then he takes a few more deep breaths.

"I just can't believe he'd do this! Why would he have a fucking kid? Why would he want to? What the fuck is he thinking?"

Karkat, of course, doesn’t know how to answer that. He’s pretty sure he’s not actually meant to, but Dave’s silence tells him he should probably say something. But he genuinely never considered this scenario before. He knows that Dave doesn’t want to have kids, because he told him, a long time ago, and multiple times since, and he knows he doesn’t want to have kids either, because he still has never been able to fully wrap his head around the concept as a whole. And because Dave doesn’t want to. But as for anyone else, even their closest friends and family, he just doesn’t have a sense for what would factor into a decision like that. He doesn’t really have a sense for what makes a good parent apart from just being a good person. And Dirk and Jake are good people, and Dave knows that too. So he can’t seem to feel surprised by this development, let alone upset, and he still can’t figure out why Dave is so hurt. So he just keeps hugging him tight while he tries to find words, but Dave beats him to it.

"He's never wanted kids! There’s no way!"

"DID… HE TELL YOU THAT?"

"He didn't fucking have to! Fine, it never came up, OK? Because why would it? But I know Dirk! I know him better than anybody, and he's not a kids guy, he's just not. He's not a dad."

Karkat’s stomach sinks at Dave’s insistence that he knows Dirk better than anybody, wondering if the implication that Dirk likewise knows Dave better than anybody is also something he believes. If Dave thinks he knows Dirk better than Jake does, does he also think Dirk knows him better than Karkat does? Does he have a reason to think that? Does he want that?

But does it matter? Karkat reminds himself that _he_ loves Dave more than _he_ loves anybody else, and Dave is in pain, so there’s no time for him to play these kinds of mind games on himself. This isn’t about semantics, or even fundamental truth, and it’s certainly not a competition. This is about how Dave is feeling, and he's in pain. So he just makes a small _hm_ noise to show that he’s listening, and hopefully to imply that he, at least vaguely, agrees. All he can hope is that it will buy him some more time to figure out what he can do that will actually help, at least before things get worse.

Dave likewise seems to not be sure what to do or say next. He continues to just stare in a downward angle at nothing, with an uncharacteristically plain look of distraught bewilderment plastered on his face. But then Dave’s face suddenly becomes sharper just before he speaks again, and his words come out sharper too.

“There’s no way this is what Dirk wants. No fucking way. This is all fucking Jake’s idea, I know it is. He loves to act all innocent like he doesn’t know he’s got Dirk in the palm of his hand, that he’d do absolutely anything for him at the drop of a hat, no questions asked, but of course he fucking knows! He knows full well that all he has to do is bat those pretty green eyes of his and drop some stupid fucking old timey words, and Dirk can’t possibly say no to him! And now Dirk and some innocent kid are gonna pay the ultimate price so good old Jake English can have his American fucking dream just like I'm sure he always wanted. Like he doesn’t know who he married, like he doesn’t fucking care.”

Now Karkat is really torn. He’s on Dave’s side- of course he is, he has to be, and he is. But he also doesn’t want there to be sides to this, and he still doesn’t quite understand why there needs to be. He’s on Dave’s side, but Jake is his friend. Jake is the only other person in the world who understands what it means to love a Strider- the ups and downs and ins and outs of all the many ways their hearts and minds work the same, but unlike anyone else’s. Jake’s the only other person who really understands how, and when, to integrate into their relationship with each other, and how and when to navigate around it. He’s the only other person who knows what it is to be loved by a Strider, how fully and freely they give their love to those they choose, and what an unmatched honor it is to receive it, but mostly, what a massive responsibility. No matter their differences, they share that unspoken understanding. It’s nothing like the bond their husbands share, but it’s something. Jake absolutely knows that Dirk would do anything for him, and that’s exactly why he would never make him do anything, not anything that truly mattered. Not this.

But what does he do with that? He’s on Dave’s side, so he has to do what Dave needs him to do. Maybe he just needs his fears assuaged. Maybe he’ll listen to reason.

“DAVE, I’M SORRY, BUT I DON’T KNOW IF THAT’S REALLY FAIR...”

“ _Of course it’s not fucking fair!_ ”

His simmering anger boils over, and now he’s yelling. Karkat releases him in his shock. He guessed wrong.

“Of course it’s not! I know Dirk’s a grown-ass man and he’s perfectly capable of making choices about his life and it’s none of my goddamn business! I know he wouldn't just jump into something like this without thinking it through! The man needs a pros and cons list to pick his fucking pizza toppings, he’s thought _this_ through! And of course I know Jake loves him and wouldn't do anything to hurt him! And I know they’re not fucking stupid! _I know he’s not him!_ ”

He breathes in sharply, almost a gasp, apparently shocked and appalled at his own words. His hands return to his face and he begins to sob once more, but this time, he continues talking right through it.

“I know he’s not him! Fuck, I’ve spent thirteen fucking years learning to know he’s not him. And I _do_ know! And I love Dirk so much, and he loves me, and that’s so important for both of us, and it took so much work to get there, and it still does, but it’s worth it because we need each other. And I know it would fucking kill him if he ever knew I was even thinking any of this, especially after all these years. It would destroy him, it would break his fucking heart, and believe me, I absolutely hate myself right now. I’m so disgusted with myself that I feel physically ill. But I’m sorry, I just can’t help it, OK? I love Dirk more than anyone after you and all I can think is that he has absolutely no business raising a kid. Not again. Not after…”

Dave pulls his hands down to just cover his mouth and sighs painfully into them. He manages to hold back tears now, or maybe he’s just all out, and just breathes deeply. Karkat puts one arm back around him.

“IT’S OK. IT’S OK.”

“I just told myself that it wasn’t his fault, he just couldn’t do it. He got stuck with a kid and got tasked by fucking destiny or some shit to make sure I’d be capable of surviving the apocalypse above all else, and he did his best, but he just doesn’t have the nurturing gene, or whatever. He's just not a dad- he couldn’t even bear to use the fucking word, that’s how much he wasn’t a dad. And that’s not his fault, it doesn’t make him a bad person. And that’s how I was able to forgive him. That’s the foundation on which all of this sits. But if it’s not even true, if Dirk Strider _willingly_ becomes a father, if he’s a _good_ father, then the problem was always me. He just didn’t want me. He didn't give a shit about me.”

Oh. Karkat suddenly feels thoroughly ashamed and incredibly stupid for not understanding before, but he very clearly understands now. He was so caught up in his insecurities over his very loose grasp on basic human culture that he didn’t even consider the one subject he knows better than any - his own matesprit, his husband. He had been looking at it through too wide a lens, racking his brain for a reason that a person would be so distressed about their brother becoming a father. But this was never about people and their brothers, this is about Dave and Dirk. And _him_.

He begins to gently rub his hand up and down Dave’s arm, wanting to give some form of additional affection, to try to somehow indicate that he finally gets it, but not wanting to interrupt. Dave just briefly pauses to sigh before continuing.

"And if he’s a shitty father, well fucking good for me then I guess, there’s my validation, but at the cost of ruining the life of some other innocent kid who has nothing to do with any of it. So then, what, I’m either just complicit in some child’s suffering, or I throw away everything I’ve built with Dirk forever, and honestly, probably end up tearing the whole fucking family apart, and probably still don’t even make anything better for the kid? And I don’t want either of those, OK? And I also know that I have absolutely no right to even want anything out of this at all, cause it’s not about me, it’s not my decision, and it’s not even _him_.”

They just sit silently for another moment, then Dave slumps down and leans into Karkat’s shoulder, as if suddenly feeling all the energy gone from his body.

“He’s not him, right? He’s not him.”

Karkat wraps his other arm around Dave and pulls him into a proper hug.

“NO, HE’S NOT HIM. HE’S GONE. YOU DON’T HAVE TO FORGIVE HIM IF YOU CAN’T. BUT DIRK DOES LOVE YOU. AND WHETHER HE’S A GOOD DAD OR NOT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH _HIM_ , OK? AND IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOU APART FROM THE FACT THAT HAVING YOU IN HIS LIFE MAKES HIM A BETTER PERSON. I PROMISE.”

Karkat gently cups Dave’s chin in his hand and lifts it so that they are looking directly into each other’s eyes, with only inches and a thin layer of tinted glass between them.

“AND I PROMISE THAT NOTHING HE DID TO YOU WAS YOUR FAULT, OK? IT WASN’T YOUR FAULT. IT WAS NOT YOUR FAULT.”

Dave wraps his arms tighter around Karkat and buries his face deeply into the armpit of his oversized sweater. They sit for another moment in silence aside from a few remaining sporadic, shuddering tears from Dave, and the low, steady purr echoing out from Karkat’s chest. Then, Dave suddenly pulls away.

“This is stupid. I’m sorry.”

Karkat quickly grabs at Dave's forearm to keep him from retreating any further.

“DON’T, DAVE. THIS ISN’T STUPID. YOU’VE BEEN THROUGH TOO MUCH BULLSHIT, YOU’RE ALLOWED TO AT LEAST FEEL IT.”

“What, like you haven’t?”

“WE’RE NOT TALKING ABOUT ME RIGHT NOW. IF SOME ALT!CONDESCE SUDDENLY SPRINGS UP AND STARTS A NEW TROLL GENOCIDE, OR ONE OF OUR BEST FRIENDS DECIDES TO GO ON A MURDER SPREE THROUGH OUR AIRDUCTS, THEN WE CAN TALK ABOUT MY SHIT, FAIR?”

Dave’s mouth twitches into a half smile, despite himself, but he quickly regrets the reaction and glances up at Karkat’s face apologetically. Karkat is now wearing a small smile of his own, confirming that the mention of his own deepest traumas was, in fact, purely intended as a bit of self-deprecating dark humor meant to put Dave at ease, and does not seem to have had a negative effect on him at all. Dave looks down again and releases his tension with a full exhale. He lets his body fall back against Karkat’s chest, and Karkat wraps his eager arms around him.

"Yeah, OK, fair."

Karkat kisses his head. Dave sighs again.

“I just really, genuinely, don’t know if I can handle this one. I truly have no idea what to do about it. What the fuck do I do, Karkat? What am I supposed to do?”

A cold rush of panic overtakes him at the question. Dave is directly asking him to fix this, asking him to make everything OK, and that's not something Dave does. It's not usually something he needs to do, because Karkat makes it a point to make everything OK for Dave before he even gets the chance to ask. But Karkat doesn't know how to make this OK, and no amount of wishing will change that. This is happening, and neither of them can stop it even if they wanted to, which, despite everything, Karkat still isn’t sure he does. So he takes a deep breath and decides to try again with just plain honesty.

“I THINK YOU TRUST YOUR BRO. I THINK THAT’S ALL YOU CAN DO. AND I UNDERSTAND THAT’S EASIER SAID THAN DONE, AND I UNDERSTAND WHY, BUT WHATEVER YOU NEED TO BE ABLE TO DO IT, I’M HERE TO HELP, OK? WE'LL HANDLE IT TOGETHER.”

That's all he has, so he just has to wait to see if it's enough. He sits for one painfully long minute with nothing but the sound of Dave’s breathing to keep him grounded. The thought that he doesn’t actually know how he’s going to help Dave handle this keeps picking at the back of his thinkpan, but he just focuses on the rise and fall of Dave’s chest beneath his arms, and tells himself that he’ll figure it out. Even if he can never find the answers, and all he can do is inundate him with a downright excessive amount of love and affection, that’s at least something he’s good at. He buries his face in Dave’s neck and keeps waiting.

Finally, Dave sighs.

“Yeah. Yeah, OK.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Afternoon, fellas! So chuffed you could make it! Heh, forgive me, I was just sitting on the couch trying to get a bit of the washing folded up before you got here- you wouldn't believe how much dirty laundry such a teensy little body can drum up in such a short time! Well, anyway, it seems old Mr. Sandman must have ambushed me while my defenses were down, haha! I’m sure you’ve heard tell of what a new tyke can do to the old sleep schedule, but well, _boy howdy,_ as it turns out, folks sure aren’t kidding around about that! It's certainly been a doozy of a week just trying to keep that little angel in tip top shape at all hours, let me tell ya! Not that I'm complaining, of course, she’s certainly worth it- absolute light of our lives and all that, but sweet Saint Christopher, for such a precious wee thing, she sure does seem to like to put us through the wringer, haha! Sometimes I even start to wonder if she’s testing us on purpose just to size us up and get an early sense of just what kinda stuff her old dads are made of! Still not quite sure what exactly she plans to do with that particular bit of information… But look at me, talking your ears off right here in the vestibule like you’re just here trying to sell me a vacuum or some kinda kooky religion- please, do come in! Pardon the mess, though…”

Jake steps aside and Dave and Karkat step in. He then dashes back over to the couch and starts pushing the scattered piles of laundry, folded or not, into a heap in the basket on the floor below, and then kicks it unceremoniously under the coffee table.

He looks like a goddamn mess. He’s wearing a black v-neck shirt that they’re certain must belong to Dirk- sharing clothes is not something they do, at least not in front of other people, and for good reason. It’s tight on him in a less than flattering way, and just looks totally out of place compared to his regular style, as eclectic as it may be. His usual chipper demeanor is just barely holding up, but it’s clearly wearing on him. He’s got bags under his eyes, and he doesn’t look like he combed his hair today, or maybe even recently. He smells, just faintly, like milk and BO.

“Uh, sorry, have a seat, my good bros. Dirk’s just upstairs finishing up feeding the little bugger and then they’ll be right down. Though, I s’pose if you wanted to head on up he wouldn’t mind the company.”

Jake has already collapsed into his armchair, but Karkat and Dave remain standing in front of the couch as they consider the offer. They look at each other, Dave looking for reassurance and Karkat already prepared to give it.

“YOU GO. I’LL WAIT WITH JAKE.”

He places a comforting hand on Dave’s back and offers an encouraging smile.

“Yeah, OK.”

“Jolly good! You know which one’s the nursery?”

“Yep, second on the left. I’m good.”

With one more glance back to Karkat's still smiling face, Dave turns and starts making his way up the stairs.

“Karkat, my friend, can I get you a refreshment while we wait?”

“JUST WATER, BUT IT’S FINE, I CAN GET IT. YOU WANT ANYTHING?”

“Well, that’s mighty kind of you! Now you mention it, heh, I can’t seem to remember the last time I had a glass of the old dog soup, so if it’s not too much trouble…”

"I'M JUST GONNA ASSUME THAT SOMEHOW MEANS YOU ALSO WANT WATER. COMING RIGHT UP..."

Their voices fade away as Dave ascends.

Dave slowly makes his way down the seemingly endless hallway, fighting the urge to turn tail and run with each step, until he reaches the second door on the left. It’s already a third of the way open, plenty of space to just stand and take in the majority of the room without making a sound or a move. Without a conscious decision to do so, he steps up as quietly as he can and just looks. From the diagonal angle, he can see the crib straight ahead, and just to the right, Dirk is seated in a rocking chair with his tiny daughter in his arms, feeding her a bottle.

His face is slightly pale, and Dave guesses that his shades are hiding fairly hefty eyebags of his own. His hair is unwashed and unstyled apart from a plastic drugstore headband holding his elusive natural curls back from his face. His shirt does appear to be his own, at least, but it's stained, and the visible seams betray the fact that he put it on inside out. And he looks so completely serene, so genuinely, effortlessly peaceful like Dave’s never seen in the thirteen years he’s known him. He’s not overcome with any grand, sweeping emotions breaking down his nearly impenetrable wall. His wall is just… gone. He’s just sitting there, with his daughter, just happily, casually loving her, and completely unafraid or unashamed to do so. It’s shocking, and surreal, and totally strange to Dave, and it’s also so utterly beautiful. But beautiful in a way that seems dangerous to touch, beautiful and fragile and superficial, like a fresh watercolor painting, or a cut rose in full bloom. He’s suddenly afraid to breathe for fear that somehow the picture in front of him will blow away, revealing that it was never really there at all. Or worse, that it was, but he destroyed it, and he’d never feel sure he didn’t do it on purpose.

“You gonna just stand there and lurk or would you like to come in and meet your niece?”

Dirk calls out without even looking up. Dave sheepishly steps into the room.

“Sorry…”

He takes a few more steps, but stops a few feet shy of them, unsure if he’s keeping his distance for their sake or for his own.

“Dave, Lydia. Lydia, Dave. Well, Uncle Dave. If that’s cool, I mean…”

Dirk shifts his weight slightly in his chair, careful not to disturb Lydia, but enough to demonstrate his own discomfort.

“Yeah, yeah of course. Hey, Lydia. Nice to meet you. Wow, she’s awesome, man. Congratulations, seriously.”

Dirk smiles. So easily.

“Yeah, she’s pretty great. Thank you.”

Dirk is completely transfixed on Lydia’s face, which is just as well, since Dave’s not confident that he’s sufficiently hiding his awkwardness at the moment. Awkwardness that he alone seems to feel growing with each silent second that passes that he can’t decide on the right thing to say, until it becomes too hard to bear.

‘Damn, bro, just, fucking look at you. Oh wait, shit, sorry, language…”

“Oh no you’re good, that ship pretty much sailed on day one, but not before all the sailors on board taught this kid half her vocabulary to this point. Just to clarify, the sailors are me, I’m the sailors. Maybe just don’t mention that to Jake though.”

“OK yeah that figures. But still, look at you.”

“Pretty crazy, right? Whoda thunk?”

“Not me.”

Dave immediately realizes the immense impact of those two words out of his mouth, intentional or not. Dirk seems to have realized too, but his wall re-erects itself instantly, and does an almost perfect job of hiding the hurt, as usual.

“Sorry, no, I didn’t mean…”

“It’s cool, bro. I know.”

More awkward silence. Dave now knows to fight the urge to break it until he’s really thought through what he wants to say. Unfortunately, his brain seems to be having a particularly hard time making any decisions at the moment, but Dirk spares him.

“You wanna hold her?”

“Oh, no it’s fine, I don’t wanna interrupt if she’s eating…”

“No it’s cool, she’s done. Just gotta burp her real quick- can you grab me one of those cloths from the table?”

Dave hesitates for just a second as he’s stuck still trying to process everything he’s witnessing. Dirk is just going through the motions as easy as can be, like there’s nothing at all odd about the fact that he’s willingly about to burp a baby with absolutely no qualms about it. _His_ baby. It’s unsettling how unbelievably natural it all seems to him, like he’s been doing this for years. Dave knows logically that he’s been doing it several times a day for almost a week, and the actual physical steps are simple enough to master, but he can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that this isn’t the very first time. It’s like he couldn’t quite finish convincing himself that any of this was real until he witnessed it with his own eyes. He does manage to move his feet the two steps to get to the changing table and grab a burp cloth while thinking this, and then just manages to take the three steps back to Dirk to hand it off.

“Here.”

“Thanks.”

And again, like it’s nothing, like the action is completely meaningless, he just tosses it right over his shoulder, lifts _his_ baby so gracefully to his chest, and starts tapping her back with a gentleness Dave didn’t think Dirk’s hands were capable of. He certainly has no memories of any gentleness from those hands.

_No. He’s not him._

With Lydia’s face now out of view, Dirk glances up again at Dave. Dave doesn’t really know what his face is doing- he’s not even really sure exactly how he’s feeling at the moment, but Dirk clearly registers something in it. It’s apparently honest enough at least, despite what Dave probably would have chosen if he could manage to do so, because Dirk responds by surrendering to a sigh and a slight frown, and then contributes his own honesty in the form of words.

“Hey, so, listen, just so you know, just so it’s not like this big awkward thing that we pretend isn’t a thing for the rest of our lives, I get that this might be, uh, weird, for you. For us, I mean. And it’s fine. Well, no, it’s not _fine_ , but what I mean is, I understand. And I’m sorry. I really, genuinely am. I'm sorry we didn't really get a chance to talk it out before. I realize now I should have probably told you sooner, but we agreed not to tell anyone until it was official just in case it didn’t work out, and then after it was everything just happened a lot faster than we thought it would, and we had to get all this stuff and get everything set up right away, and do all this legal shit, and read all these books about, you know, how to raise a kid, and we hadn't even fully finished unpacking from the move yet- and I know that's not really an excuse. I could've asked Jake if I could just tell you sooner, he would've understood. But even just this past month, I could have made time, honestly. But I guess I didn't want to, like, bombard you. I wanted to give you your space. Also, if I'm being totally honest, I guess I was kinda putting it off cause I was, uh, well, fuck it, I was scared. But that doesn't matter. My point is, if you ever do want to talk about it or anything I’m more than happy to do that. Or if there’s anything else I can do, don’t be afraid to ask, OK? The last thing I want is for anything to come between us, especially now, so just let me know what I can do. But it’s up to you. No rush.”

As he’s listening, Dave’s stomach drops, and his throat becomes tighter and tighter as his mind is flooded with a seemingly endless deluge of guilt. Here's Dirk, his bro, his _brother_ \- ecto-bullshit be damned, his best friend, literally the exact same age as Dave to the day, literally sitting here in front of him holding his five day old daughter, exhausted, and overwhelmed, and so blissfully happy like he’s never been in his life, and he's apologizing for it. He's apologizing for things he never did, and wholeheartedly offering time and energy that he doesn't have, but Dave is certain he would make, to try to make up for the mistakes of some other long-gone, broken man. With his five day old daughter in his arms, he's trying to be a good dad to Dave, too. And it's not fair. It's not right.

_He's not him._

Dave has spent thirteen years telling himself that, and now he realizes that he's never believed it more.

“No. I mean, thank you for saying that. Really, I appreciate it. A lot actually. But no, it’s not weird. Not like that, I mean. I'm OK. I’m good. We’re good. And I’m really happy for you, bro. Really.”

Dirk visibly relaxes again, and even lets a new smile form on his face.

“Thanks. Yeah, not gonna lie, I’m really happy for me, too, actually. Really fucking happy.”

He brings Lydia back into his arms, and sits for a few seconds just looking down at her and smiling. But then all at once, the weight of their conversation seems to fall on him, and his smile fades with a sigh.

“But also really fucking exhausted. Seriously, can you please take her? I’m so goddamn fucking tired I can barely feel my arms.”

Without standing, Dirk pushes Lydia up in Dave’s direction before Dave has time to agree, but he reaches out to accept.

“Oh, hey, yeah, OK, I got her. Uh, hey, little sis. Wow, geez, you sure are small aren’t you? And pretty damn cute, too, actually…”

Dave looks down at Lydia’s tiny face, and she looks right back up at him, and that’s all it takes. It feels like every part of his mind and heart and body go instantly soft. He knows in the deepest part of him that the very existence of this small, fragile, useless little person is truly nothing short of a miracle, and that she unquestionably deserves all the love and care and reverence in the world. He remembers again why people choose to do this. He knows why Dirk chose this, and for the first time, he’s glad that he did.

He looks back down at Dirk, arms and head now flopped against the chair like a ragdoll, and he’s never looked stronger. And Dave’s never been prouder of him. He’s never known him better, and he’s never loved him more.

But, damn, he’s also a hot fucking mess.

“Hey, if you guys wanna like, take a nap or something, we can hang as long as you want. We used to babysit Harry Anderson all the time so we definitely know how to keep a baby alive for a few hours at least.”

Dirk looks up and raises an eyebrow slightly.

“And, you know, way more than that.”

Now Dirk’s veil of neutrality is seriously slipping at the offer, which tells Dave just exactly how fucking tired he must be. If there’s one thing Dirk Strider tries to avoid at all costs, it’s appearing incapable of handling anything on his own, no matter what the circumstances, and Dave can tell that part of him is trying so hard to say no. But thankfully, the human part of him wins out.

“Are you sure? You know that’s not why we invited you over.”

“Yes, dude, I’m sure or I wouldn’t have offered. Get some fucking sleep. I’ll go and send Jake up. We can chill whenever. And besides, we’re here for her, not for you.”

He exhales, and Dave can practically see the weight leaving his shoulders, then he stands.

“Yeah, OK. Thanks. I owe you one, bro.”

“You don’t, actually, but sure, whatever. Sweet dreams.”

Dirk looks down once more at Lydia and gently brushes the back of his finger against her cheek before reluctantly turning for the door. He takes a few steps and turns back.

“OK, but wake us if you need anything. Seriously.”

“Yeah, fine. Goodnight.”

Dirk slowly turns to leave again, and Dave steps up to the doorway to watch as he continues this time all the way to his own bedroom and shuts the door. Then he looks back down at Lydia.

“Alright kid, let’s have some fun.”

He makes his way back down the hall and down the stairs.

“So, change of plans. Karkat, you and me are watching the kid and Jake is gonna go upstairs and go to bed. Oh, yeah, this is Lydia, by the way. Come say hi.”

Karkat excitedly gets up from the couch and runs over to meet Dave and Lydia at the foot of the stairs.

“(HI LYDIA! I’M UNCLE KARKAT! OH, LOOK AT HER! SHE’S BEAUTIFUL, JAKE!)” he says in his “baby voice”- half shout, half whisper, with the volume settled at an acceptable level between.

“Yes, thank you,” Jake responds to the compliment on auto-pilot, but then perks up. “But oh, fellas, really, that’s awfully kind but we couldn’t ask you to do that! What kind of hosts would we be if we invited you into our home with the promise to entertain and then just left you to mind the babe while we ran off on an impromptu trip to the land of nod! No, we simply couldn’t impose...”

“Jake, please just shut up and go upstairs. Dirk’s already in bed. And you’re not our hosts, you're our family, and this is what family does. Go get some sleep. I’m not asking.”

Jake’s expression of polite stoicism gives way to unbridled gratitude. His eyes even start to water. He practically leaps up from his chair and runs across the room.

“ _Oh_ , bless you both!”

He grabs Karkat by the arms and plants a big sloppy kiss on his cheek, then does the same to Dave, which they both decide to tolerate under the circumstances, then he kisses Lydia much more gently on the forehead.

“Be good for your uncles, duckling, I love you so much! We won’t be too long, boys, I promise, and please come wake us if you need anything at all…”

“We know, Jake. Go sleep.”

“Righto! Going!”

Over the next few hours, Dave and Karkat take turns holding Lydia. Karkat finishes folding the laundry while Dave plays some beats on his phone and freestyles about whatever baby-friendly topics he can think of. Dave washes the big pile of dishes left in and around the kitchen sink while Karkat puts on _The Princess Bride_ and provides Lydia with his own in-depth commentary. Karkat makes dinner while Dave changes Lydia’s diaper and feeds her again. Finally, Dirk and Jake come back down, looking slightly less dead than before, wearing clothes that appear to be clean and fit properly at the very least, and smelling like a fresh shower.

“Hey, perfect timing, dinner’s almost ready. Apparently we’re having ‘The Few Random Things You Had Left In Your Fridge Casserole.’ I know that sounds kinda sus, but you know Karkat’s a legit wizard in the kitchen so I’m sure it’ll be like, unsettlingly good. I mean, it smells good. Don’t ask me what’s in it, though, he wouldn’t tell me. Maybe it’s one of those _best we don’t know_ situations...”

Jake is speechless, and looks very close to breaking down in tears again, but manages to hold back. Dirk jumps in to speak for both of them.

“You guys really didn’t have to do all this…”

“It’s fine, bro, seriously, no big deal. Want me to put her down upstairs while we eat, or what’s the protocol?”

Dirk and Jake share a disconcerted look.

“Uh, I guess the protocol has pretty much been that neither of us has had a real meal for the last five days, and I guess we haven’t had any of our fake meals at the same time, so… _sure_. Put her down upstairs. Thanks.”

“Cool.”

Dave pats Dirk’s shoulder as he passes them on his way up the stairs. Just then, Karkat emerges from the kitchen carrying a steaming dish of… _something_ , and places it on the table.

“OK, SO, DO NOT JUDGE MY CULINARY SKILLS BASED ON THIS MONSTROSITY. I DID MY BEST WITH WHAT I HAD TO WORK WITH.”

“Dude, you know what I had for breakfast today? A piece of bread. Not even toast, just bread.”

“You had breakfast?”

After they’ve eaten their unsettlingly good meal, forced Dirk and Jake to let them help clean up, and visited Lydia one more time in her nursery, Dave and Karkat are back in their car, still parked in front of the house.

“What a day, huh?”

Karkat just looks at him with inquisitive concern.

“It’s OK, Babe. I’m fine. I promise.” Dave answers the question that didn’t even need to be asked, and throws in a reassuring smile for good measure.

“OK, GOOD. I MEAN, YOU SEEMED LIKE YOU WERE HAVING A GOOD TIME IN THERE BUT I JUST WANT TO MAKE SURE.”

“I was. And I know. Thanks.”

Dave sets his hand on top of Karkat’s, which is resting on his leg. He flips it over and grabs back without even thinking. They sit in a comfortable silence, but after a moment, Karkat nervously glances back at Dave.

“SO… MAYBE THIS IS THE WRONG TIME TO BRING THIS UP, OR MAYBE IT’S EXACTLY THE RIGHT TIME, I DON’T FUCKING KNOW, BUT FUCK IT. DO YOU… STILL NOT WANT KIDS? DEFINITELY?”

Dave looks back at Karkat, eyebrow raised, unsure what to make of the question. Karkat’s face makes it clear that he was asking earnestly, despite the fact that Dave is so certain that he’s already made his answer as explicitly clear as possible, and finds himself slightly annoyed to be asked again. But then he reminds himself that his husband, his matesprit, is really, genuinely trying his best to understand something he just can’t understand. After all, he had just spent half the day witnessing Dave loving and enjoying the company a baby, so it makes sense that he’d be a bit confused, considering his lack of natural instincts and cultural foundation on the matter. He’s just doing his best, and he’s doing it all out of love. Dave’s patience returns to him, and he answers earnestly.

“No, I still don’t want kids, definitely. I’m very happy just being the Cool Uncle. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I was born to be a cool uncle. Or, you know, slimed, whatever. Like, cool uncledom is just very much in line with exactly who I inherently am as a person. It was already pretty much my personal brand even before my ecto-relatives started collecting kiddos. And I love those kiddos, obviously, and I love hanging out with them and teaching them how to be cool and shit, but I also love that when I’m done uncle-ing I get to go home and just chill with you and we get to do whatever the fuck we want whenever the fuck we want with no one’s entire life and future hanging in the balance. I love our life exactly as it is. So no, I don’t want our own kids. But as far as I’m concerned, everyone else can keep having as many fucking kids as they want.”

“EVEN DIRK?”

Karkat’s face is still holding onto one last trace of apprehension as he awaits the answer.

“Yeah, even Dirk.”

And then he finally relaxes.

“OK, GOOD. AND FOR THE RECORD, I LOVE OUR LIFE TOO, AND I’M PERFECTLY HAPPY JUST BEING THE COOL UNCLE’S WEIRD, OBNOXIOUS TROLL HUSBAND. I GUESS THAT’S PRETTY MUCH MY PERSONAL BRAND…”

Dave laughs. He grabs Karkat’s face and plants a firm kiss on his lips.

“And I am so ridiculously happy to have you as my weird, obnoxious troll husband.”

He pats his cheeks affectionately and then turns ahead and starts the car.

“Alright, let’s go home, I’m fucking exhausted.”


End file.
